


He Said She Said He Said

by XxDarkSaviorxX



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Comedy, Dom/sub, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Funny, Gay Sex, High School, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, POV First Person, Past Rape/Non-con, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Slash, Stereotypes, Yaoi, fictionpress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxDarkSaviorxX/pseuds/XxDarkSaviorxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chael has always harbored a crush on his oh-so-sexy childhood friend, Austin. The problem? Austin is straight as an arrow and thick as a board. Can Chael win him over in the end, or is the perfect guy for him right under his nose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Author's Note: This is a very, very old un-betaed story of mine from 4-5 years ago. I'm putting it on Archive of Our Own for anyone who wants to read it. It's utterly terrible but hopefully it will bring someone joy.

 

_

Prologue

Time stops.

If life were a movie, there would be a close-up of the student body. Girls would prance about in tiny skirts and boys would make crude hand gestures. The geeks would huddle around their laptops and the freaks would hide in their corners. Were life a movie, the camera would then zoom in on the face of me-- the unnoticed, unspectacular protagonist.

However, this is not a movie. It is real life.

"Cliché. Perfection has become too ordinary. Admired and marveled on television, it is often mistaken for actual, plausible truth. Pretty girls with perfect lives, perfect bodies, and perfect personalities put on perfect smiles, whilst living out their oh-so-perfect upper-middle class drama-filled lives. Supposedly, the biggest geek in school is an orchid among daisies and the dumb-brained jock has a sweet poetic side. Supposedly, with the simple joining of two unlikely souls comes the obliteration of all stereotypes.

Cliché.

Supposedly, there is little more than blonde hair and big tits to the bitchy head-cheerleader, who is indefinitely pure evil. Supposedly, the flamboyant gay guy is always flamboyant and nearly always sports a bright pink cap, a pair of khaki pants, and a sweater-vest. Freaks are not freaks. The school reject is hot. Blonde-haired woman equals stupid.

Here's a news flash for all you incoming freshman: Wake up! This is not fantasyland. There are no fluffy unicorns here, the teachers suck, and you WILL be stereotyped. Welcome to Vatican High school. Pep-rallies are dangerous for freshies, homecoming music is almost purely rap, and the jocks are anything but poetic. Have fun. You are officially Vatican Vampires."

As the peppy voice faded into the background, Mrs. Sparks glanced away from the intercom and over her class. In the back, a few miscellaneous students read silently, crouched low in their seats. Mixed among them were hooligans, tossing paper balls and cackling rowdily. The students in the front of the room sat straight-backed and attentive, waiting for instruction whilst the ones in the middle whispered quietly… or as quiet as a room of thirty seniors could whisper. All of them had heard the slightly- comical announcement before. No one could bother to care. Mrs. Sparks considered her self quite lenient. She decided not to bother going over pointless rules and regulations that would only give her students, and herself, a headache. She had never been a fan of masochism and reading over that damn handbook again would be just that.

Already, she could point out which students would be a problem and which would not. Ernie Wilson sat alert, front and center. His hands twitched nervously as he fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves. Already, she could make out the sheen of sweat forming along his forehead. A salty drop manifested along the wrinkled ridge of his creased brow, trailed down the length of his pointed nose, and dripped onto his desk.

She tried not to wince.

In the back, Austin Davis joked loudly with his jock friends, conversing in a clipped dull tone. He wasn't smart. He never would be. However, cheating would keep him on the football team. He was, after all, their star quarterback.

Then, there was sweet little Chael Amadeus, reading serenely right next to Austin. She wondered how the poor boy managed. Through everything, he remained focused and intent on staying unnoticed, fading into the background.

Yes. That's right. You could call me psychic, but I would wave it off. It's simple to read the mind of a teacher when you just happen to be 'teacher's pet'. I glance up at her over the peak of my book. She flashes me a gentle, pitying smile-- eyes soft with worry. Occasionally, Austin spares me a troubled, fleeting look. This may not have been enough to catch notice, but it was enough to irritate me.

I guess I should start from the beginning. . .

I loved my best friend. Actually, come to think of it, I suppose the correct phrasing would be, "I loved my ex-best-friend", "I loved my sister's boyfriend.", or "I loved my sister's worst enemy." A few people dared to believe that I should have been on his arm that night instead of her. We'd had it all planned out. It would have been the prank of a century and the only suitable excuse for remaining undetached during the Junior-Senior Prom.

Two guys and one prank... just a prank.

However, somewhere along the line I forgot that the prank was just some hair-brained scheme we had concocted whilst drunk off our asses. It somehow transformed into an elaborate plot of epic proportions. It contained a purpose, a blueprint, and the entire objective of this year. We wanted others to remember us. We needed to live on within the walls of Vatican High School. Now, it sounds stupid. However, at the time it wasn't.

Not to us.

A note lands in the center of my desk. It's a simple paper-football design-- totally Austin. He gives me another one of those fleeting looks before returning to his friends-- back turned. Blaming Austin is unfair, I know, but I cannot very well fault my own sister for what occurred last year. My fingers scoop up the miniscule triangle, carefully peeling it open.

'Dude, I'm sorry. I did not know you were so stingy about your sister, man. I should've told you I was into her when the whole thing started. I'm sorry, man. Friends?'

I want to nod. I want to smile and forget anything ever happened. However, Austin doesn't understand. There is so much more to the whole ordeal then just him dating my sister. I want to tell him, but I know I can't. It was less than a year ago when this started. It hasn't ended. I can't let it go.

I shake my head.

'I'm not mad at you,' I mouth.

He cocks an eyebrow, puzzled.

I refuse to respond and continue with my book.

-

Feel free to comment or Kudos if you liked it. :)  
I'm just putting this up until I find the inspiration to post something new and fresh.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Junior year: the sweltering summer heat has yet to ebb away." A camera zooms in on a group of students lapping at cherry popsicles. The golden sun situates itself in the very center of a cloudless blue sky. Said camera briefly points upward, reflecting white light back at the giant sphere. The birds are chirping. The chicks are yapping. Everyone is ready to begin school again. The photographer smirks wickedly upon spying his little sister amongst a crowd of trembling freshman. Their eyes are huge and panicked. Their hands twitch and fidget, clinging to maps of the campus as though those sheets of paper were a lifeline. "And here we come upon a dazzling princess," he teases, sneaking up behind her. "Dressed in… oh my GOD, Sarah! What the HELL are you wearing?" he screams, pitch raising an octave in hysteria.

"Huh?" She turns around to face her brother and giggles. "Oh, come on, Chael. It's not like I'm the only one wearing it."

"You are so going to get dress code. How did you escape the house in that pathetic strip of fabric?" He shuts of the camera. Coincidentally, he was me. Let me clarify that I am not 'stingy' in any way, shape, or form. I simply know the difference between chic and slutty. The skirt, I presumed, would barely cover her crotch when she sat down. Hell, it barely covered it standing. Truthfully, I did NOT want her to get dress code on the first day of school for such an indecency.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Thing 1 and Thing 2." I rolled my eyes as a muscular arm draped over my shoulders, hugging me close to a powerful chest. "Hello, Thing 1." A sultry voice whispered in my ear.

" Oh my gosh, Austin. Stop acting like a goddamn fag! You are totally traumatizing my poor brother!"

Austin flashed that toothy grin of his. I called it, "the smile". It was the one he gave me in third grade that made me realize that I liked boys, and also the same grin he unknowingly used to distract me during soccer tryouts freshman year-- the one he flashed me while I was preparing to score a goal. Luckily, my instincts brought me back into the game and I made the team. If there was one thing that kept Austin and I friends, it was history and soccer. Well, I guess that's two things, right?

"Well, looks like Little Miss Sarah thinks she's a hot-shot just because she's in high school. News flash, kid, your still ugly." Austin always had a habit of beaming as he said something particularly mean, though his mean comments weren't exactly the brightest. Sarah was pretty, no doubt about it. Her hair was freshly straightened and honey-blonde. She was petite and slender. No boobs, the poor dear. Still, a breast job would fix that when she got older. She took makeup well, wearing a wet sheen of lip gloss over her plump pink lips and a ring of kohl around her eyes. However, she looked every bit the freshman she was-- Albeit one that tried too hard to prove she wasn't. Her skirt was too short, accenting the fact that she had no curves and that her legs were thin and knees knobby. Her tank top was laughable, considering it was extremely low cut but there was nothing to show.

As a brother it was, of course, my job to intrude at this point. "Austin, shut the fuck up." A simple comment, but it was enough to make him remove his arm and narrow his eyes at me. One doesn't ever have to get too eloquent with Austin. A blatant unintelligent insult or comment will suffice.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be?" he growled, making it more then what it was. You know, like those idiots on reality TV. When Austin got angry, he would become really still and red, as if he were a bomb waiting to explode. He would tilt his chin upwards and his arms would fall rigid at his sides. His football friends, sensing an issue, seemed to all glance over from their separate crowds. A few ventured forward, waiting to break up anything that started. It wasn't that they didn't adore watching a good fight or two, but watching Austin pummel me into the ground wasn't something they would enjoy. After all, there is no sport in a fight if one opponent simply huddles into a ball on the ground and screams like a little girl. Yeah. I wouldn't fight.

"Austin," I tried playfully. "You're my best friend. She's my sister. No insults please. You know I didn't mean it like that. By the way, I finished your summer reading project for Mr. Martini. Would you like to look over it?"

Hearing that I had done his homework for him, Austin quietly deflated, leisurely grin stretching across his lips. He always had been easy to please.

"Yeah?" he beamed. "Thanks, man. I didn't even think about it. Summer reading is bullshit."

I just nodded, wondering if he even realized that normal guys don't do your projects for you, normal guys don't cry while reading, "My Sister's Keeper", and normal guys don't blush when you smile at them. Sometimes I felt like I lived in a world surrounded by mindless idiots, who couldn't see anything of the world around them because their heads were already so far stuck up their own asses and no light could pervade. No one knew I was gay, interestingly enough. I didn't have a heavy lisp but I wasn't exactly unobvious. Hell, I pranced around with a camera and hadn't ever had a girlfriend. Well, not one that actually existed. Sometimes it was necessary to lie to stay in touch with the real world, or rather, the high school world.

"Your face is bullshit." Sarah mumbled under her breath. She was a bit late with the comment, considering I'd already started shuffling through my book-bag for the report. However, Austin didn't seem to notice. He sent me an indignant look. I suppose he expected me to say something to her, considering I'd said something when he picked on her.

"Sarah… be nice." Austin's face fell. He started getting red again. He was like a bipolar puppy. One moment he was pleased and peppy, the next he was growling and snapping at you. Immediately, I gave up. There was no pleasing him and I wasn't about to scold my sister. It may sound unfair but, the thing is, those two had never gotten along.

-

Flashback to the summer of sophomore year. Austin and Sarah were caught up in a staring match on the couch. Truthfully, it was a glaring match. I figured whichever one looked away first would be the loser.

The scent of butter-drenched popcorn wafted towards us from the kitchen and the coffee table was loaded with an assortment of chocolates and fruit that my mom had set out before leaving with my father to go on a 'date'. In my opinion, old people, especially opposites such as those two, should date regularly. It distracted them from the fact that they had been married for sixteen years and still hated each other. It was Friday. Austin always came over on Fridays because he lived next door. I sometimes wondered why he didn't go out partying with his friends or on a date with one of his 'pet' cheerleaders. He told me it wouldn't be the same without me there. I came to my own conclusion: Austin was just too lazy to drive anywhere.

"Why the fuck does the little bitch have to be here?" Austin whined, hurling a fistful of Hershey kisses at her. Sarah ducked and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Because she lives here." I answered, moving the tray of chocolates out of his reach so that he wouldn't have anymore ammunition. He picked up a strawberry. I took it away.

"Whatever. I don't want her whining and screaming throughout the whole goddamn movie. Make her leave." Austin unlocked his eyes from hers, slouching further into the old black leather couch.

"I won't scream! I'm not a little kid! I can watch rated R movies." Sarah argued.

"Whatever." Austin grumbled something under his breath, draping an arm over my shoulders. Sarah squirmed, disgusted. "You know, I bet if I kiss you the little bitch will get so fucking freaked out that she'll leave." he whispered into my ear. I knew he was joking. Hell, he started barking in laughter after he said it. However, it sent chills up my spine. Jerk.

"I'm going to get the popcorn. Put in the movie." I said, face void of emotion.

When I came back from the kitchen, I noticed a distant difference in the atmosphere and setting of our Friday movie night. The ground was littered with smashed fruit and melting chocolate. The television lay upturned on the floor, screen cracked. The couch had managed to flip itself over; Austin was using it as a barricade of sorts. And, of course, he and my sister were hurling fruit at each other, eyes both blazing with hatred.

-

Back to Junior year. Pulling out a relatively thick stack of papers, I shoved it into Austin's unwilling hands. " Here it is. 'A' worthy. Stop being a whiny bitch. She's just a dumb freshman." I smiled. He smiled. It was perfect for exactly two seconds until…

"Chael!" Sometimes I got the feeling that life would never leave me the hell alone. Austin's smile dropped quicker then you could say the word 'castration'.

In the high school world, some people are genuinely and truly pitiful. It's those type of people that usually star in the stereotypical teen movies, wherein he or she inevitably becomes the most popular kid in school. In real life, their ever-apparent social awkwardness and lack of common sense would keep these people out of the popular circle. However, I knew television would never learn to acknowledge common sense.

I didn't want to turn. After all, with the off-putting face Austin was making, I knew no good could come out of looking. However, the more I told myself to ignore the whiny high-pitched voice chiming in my ears, the more I realized that answering it was inescapable.

"Yeah? What's wrong now Armin?" In the end, I spared the whiny voice an ounce of attention. You know, just enough to appease him. However, I knew better then to expect a short explanation of why he was bugging me so early in the morning. Armin had never been the 'curt' sort. Hell, his whole appearance was longwinded. From his longish bowl-cut black hair, to his huge oval glasses, to his gag-worthy green sweater-vest-- Armin was as much a joke to look at as he was to listen to.

"As the new Editor and Chief of the Vatican Express, I wish to express to you, staff writer Chael Amadeus, my deepest concern for your position on the paper. As you well know, the school newspaper doesn't condone any sort of cheating, especially of a literary sort." Armin hissed in one breath, thin lips drawing into something of a serpentine smirk. He extended one pale hand towards Austin confidentially. "The paper, please. I do believe you would do better to hand it over to me now then to explain yourself to the principal later."

"I'll take my chances," Austin growled. "After all, you wouldn't have the balls to rat me out."

The problem was, we all knew that Armin would rat him out. Hell, it was the only thing the dick had the balls for. Sarah seemed confused, watching the exchange with an amused curiosity. Ever since I had joined the staff in sophomore year, Armin had been on my ass about absolutely everything, ranging from grades to personal life.

-

Flash back again to sophomore year-- only this time it's a Friday evening in February. The newsroom was practically vacant, save for a handful of editors editing stories and myself adding some finishing touches to my story. The story I was writing at that time turned out to be the best of that year. It was an opinion story on the importance of body image in modern teenage society. All I needed to do was add an extra interview that would, in Armin's opinion, "greatly add to the story", and I was done. Our staff was a relatively large one, with about thirty staff members total. Out of those thirty, six were editors.

"Almost finished, Chael? That sentence is a run-on. Rephrase it." I could sense the weasel's eyes on me even before he spoke. He wasn't even Editor and Chief yet, though everyone knew he would be. Long, white fingers squeezed my shoulder as Armin stood over me, watching my progress from behind.

"Yeah. I should be done in a bit. I have plans so I really can't afford to stay much longer anyway." I whispered uneasily, trying to focus on the unsteady mumble of my voice recorder that was playing the contents of my interview back at me. I heard an exhausted sigh from behind me. Even though Armin was a pain, he was truly dedicated to everything he did. Anyone who knew him knew that he spent hours in the newsroom even after everyone had gone home and school had let out. Everyone knew that he had the highest GPA in the sophomore class.

"Comma. Right there. Yes. Perfect."

We were like that for a while-- me typing and him quietly pointing out every tiny, insignificant flaw. It was nice, actually… until he brought up my personal life.

"Your grade in AP World History is slipping, Chael. Perhaps you should quit soccer. According to Mrs. Phelps, you haven't been turning in your homework." Armin piped. I cringed. Sometimes he reminded me of my parents, always wondering about my grades.

"My grades are fine. I'll just turn in the next homework assignment. No big deal." I answered, trying to wave off the whole conversation. His grip on my shoulder tightened as he leaned down, lips level with my ear. "Besides, I love soccer almost as much as I love newspaper… kinda.

"I don't think you understand, Chael. This staff will be mine next year, as you well know. You're my favorite writer-- besides myself, of course. It would be a shame if I should find a reason to kick you off the staff. I'm sure the guidance office and your parents would understand a schedule change if I told them your grade was suffering because of newspaper." The sensation of Armin's hot breath against the shell of my ear sent a chill down my spine, and not the good kind either. "Quote format, Chael. Wrong quote format."

"If the problem is newspaper then why should I quit soccer?"

"It's not newspaper. If it was, I could take care of it. I could find you interviews, work with you to fix your article after school, or tell you where you should sell ads. However, the fact remains that it's not newspaper. It's those damn soccer tryouts you run to almost everyday after school. Regardless, who will the adults believe: you or me? Sentence fragment."

"Done! The grade will go up. Don't threaten me." It sucks when the person you fear most is a twiggy geek with a bloated ego. Armin offered me one of his 'serpentine smirks'; the one that says 'I'm a cocky bastard even though I look like an ugly kid from a Sears catalogue.'

"Of course it will. After all, you're going to ace the test on Monday, right?"

Shit.

At that point, I decided I didn't care anymore. Hell, the second I checked my watch the only thing I cared about was getting home to spend my Friday night with Austin. I didn't notice until Saturday morning that there was a neatly-written stack of surprisingly comprehensible notes tucked away in my backpack.

I got an A+ on that test.

-

"I, myself, am not above assisting' my peers. However, blatant cheating such as this is in violation of the school code and, as the new Editor and Chief, I believe it is my duty to bring a halt to such atrocities in my own school. Surely, even a buffoon like you can understand such a simple concept." Armin practically crooned in that same condescending tone, as though he were speaking to a pet monkey. I suppose that's how he saw Austin-- a big, lumbering baboon. My baboon.

The same crowd of Austin's friends that had been prepared to tear Austin and I apart when he got angry, were now watching with sheer amusement, knowing that the exchange of insults between Austin and Armin would not oscillate into more then that.

"Wow, Chael. Are all of your friends this weird?" Sarah quipped nervously, looping her arm through mine and giving it a slight squeeze. I noticed a familiar expression on her face. Her eyes darted suspiciously from side to side as if to make sure no one was looking her way. Her tongue briefly darted out of her mouth, moistening her pink lips which had a habit of forming a slight 'O' when she was embarrassed. Her brows drew together in a look of deep concentration as her small form went cold and rigid at my side.

She was totally, utterly uncomfortable.

I didn't understand why. After all, she was only a freshman. It wasn't as though she had a life yet… or friends.

Lifting my camera, I directed the lens towards her disgusted face. Were life a movie or a TV show, my little sister would probably be starring in some rendition of The Hills or Gossip Girl. As she noticed the camera on her, her lips drew into a slight pout.

"So princess, how's your first day of school so far?" I said, chuckling slightly.

"Oh my God, you are so weird. I'm not going to have any normal friends at all, am I?"

"Trust me, sis. Armin is about as 'normal' as they come at Vatican."

I think she threw up a little bit in her mouth.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I want more story ideas from all of you. Seriously, I expected so much more from you people! Five stories? What are we supposed to do with only five stories and thirty staffers?" Armin growled, standing at the front of the class. Behind him, a story board stood relatively bare. I, myself, hadn't come up with anything yet. After all, school had just began and newspaper wasn't exactly something I had been panicking about over the summer.

"Armin, it's early in the year. It's only natural that the few story ideas we have are about new clubs and the like. Give it another day and I'm sure everyone will have thought of something. Here's my idea: a features story on the new, incoming teachers, a front page story about the schools' 50th anniversary, and an opinion story on the schools' new, strict PDA policy." I tried, knowing they were all a bit cliché. "It's the first day of school. At least let everyone have a day to settle."

A few of the new staffers looked at me, eyes as large as saucers. They probably thought I was insane for talking back to Armin. The thing was, they didn't know him like I did.

Armin's shoulders slumped as he let out a defeated sigh. "You're right. I suppose its best we spend today getting to know each other."

I nodded and smiled, standing up. "Hello everyone. My name is Chael Amadeus. Most of you already know me," I said, looking around. The returning staff giggled. Of course they knew me. When you've been on a newspaper staff for over a year, you become family. "I'm a staff writer, just like you guys. So, if you need any help, don't be too afraid to come to me about it."

"Actually, if you recall Chael, Mindy just transferred from Vatican. That leaves the opinions' editor position open, and I'm sure all the returning staff would agree that you deserve that job even more than she did." Our news editor, Stacy McGee, piped up. Stacy was perhaps the prettiest girl on the staff. Austin had been after her for years. Her hair was a rich, chocolate brown and tumbled down her back in tiny ringlets. Her eyes were a watery shade of blue. But, most of all, she had a nice rack. That was probably what Austin saw before anything else.

"Of course," Armin agreed. That oh-so-slimy smirk slithered its way back onto his lips. "All returning staff in favor, say I."

The newsroom erupted in 'I's.'

"Then it's settled," Armin crooned, slipping a lazy arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. "Everyone, meet your new opinions' editor. Now, on with introductions, please."

As the class returned to chattering, I felt myself slump in my seat. 'What the hell had just happened,' I wondered. Did it even matter that I hadn't accepted the position? Well, of course I wanted it. However, everything had just happened too fast. My mind was racing and the world was spinning. An editor? Me?

Someone loomed over me, squatting so that we were nearly face to face. I was in too much shock to reject the hand that coiled itself around my own. Armin snickered and squeezed my hand. "Happy?" he asked.

I simply nodded mutely. I probably looked like a gaping fish.

"You'll do fine. We, the other editors and I, have been discussing your position on this paper for quite some time. You would make a fine editor, we believe. However, you must remember that being an editor shall mean you must place all of your heart and soul into this paper. Can you do that?"

"That sounds a lot like "quit soccer" to me," I quipped, eyes narrowing as his sly smile broadened. I jerked my hand from his grasp and watched as his brow furrowed and nose wrinkled in the beginnings of aggravation.

"Well, it's certainly something you might want to consider." he purred, but there was something dark about his words-- something angry.

"Ok."

His eyes, as though a switch had been flipped, lit ablaze with a fire I'd never seen before. They were smoldering and he was grinning that slimy grin from ear to ear. "Perfect. I knew you would see things my way."

"On one condition," I started. If I was going to lose something then so was he. I knew that he had somehow planned this-- all of it. Though, I wasn't sure how.

"And what would that be?" I thought of the one thing that would wipe that serpentine smirk off of his face.

"I'll quit soccer if you quit the 'Mathletes' team. You know, the one you're president of. If you do that and replace it with soccer then I'll spend nearly every waking moment in this newsroom. Also, don't say you can't because we all know nothing inhibits your work ethic." It would serve Armin right to gain a small bit of exercise. Besides, if I couldn't be on the team, I might as well throw them a bit of fresh meat to tease. I never expected Armin to actually agree to the deal. In fact, I expected him to bitch, grumble, and walk away. He surprised me.

"All right." His voice was unsteady-- unsure-- but he'd said it. At Vatican and the surrounding schools, soccer was a year-long sport. It was like our football. They were always training-- always competing. I was curious to see how pathetic Armin would look during tryouts. "But this condition won't mean anything if I don't make the team."

Oh, so that was his plan.

"Of course you will because I'll train you before tryouts. Almost anyone can make the team. It's staying on the team through Fall training that's the hard part." I said, crushing his excuses-- his hope.

"Then I suppose we have a deal." Armin took my hand in his own again. Only this time, it was for an entirely different purpose. His eyes shimmered with determination and I couldn't wait to laugh as he failed. As usual, the handshake lasted longer than I wanted it to last.

"Let's started with 'training' today after school."

-

"… and the teacher was all like, 'that skirt is so inappropriate.' I totally wanted to punch her, Chael. The lady was a total bitch. She actually tried to make me go down to the office to put on someone else's leftover pants. Can you say, 'ew much?' Luckily some girl had these skin-colored leggings which are, like, the perfect way to beat the system, you know?" Even as my sister ranted about her first day of school, I couldn't quite give her my full-blown attention. I was too distracted by the fact that I'd promised I'd train Armin. How had I dug myself into that hole?

"Thing 1 and thing 2, I've been looking for you!" A loud, deep voice thundered from about ten feet behind us. I felt Austin's arm swing itself around my shoulders and twitched a bit. How was I going to tell him I was quitting soccer? He couldn't handle something like that.

Luckily, Sarah's big mouth did it for me. "Hey, monkey. Did you hear? Chael isn't doing soccer this year. Lame right?"

Austin spun me around like a rag doll and I couldn't stop the yelp that escaped my lips. I sounded like a smacked puppy with its tail between its legs-- probably looked like one too. Austin was steaming, fingers digging into my shoulder as he shook me. "What the fuck, man? Why the hell would you fucking quit soccer! It's, like, your fucking life, dude!" With each word, Austin's voice raised in volume.

"I-I don't have time for it this year. No big." I said, shrugging off his hand. "I'm throwing some fresh meat your way, though. I got Armin to quit the Mathletes. It was kinda a part of a deal we made. He's gonna try out for soccer."

Austin went rigid. "What kind of deal?" he growled, crossing his arms. His face was turning purple again and Sarah was looking a bit frightened.

"I'm the opinion's editor this year, Austin. I can't afford to spend almost everyday after school on soccer. Armin, on the other hand, is a great multi-tasker. When you kick his ass on the field just think of me."

"This is fucking bullshit. Your ditching the team for a bunch of zit-faced faggots who have nothing better to do than write pointless shit that no one cares about?"

I don't know where it came from. Maybe it was the hurt, inner-gayness within me that had simply come bursting forth. It's normal for guys to resort to violence when they get angry. However, this violence is usually in the form of a kick or a punch…

I slapped him.

I slapped him hard across the face with all the strength I could muster. I slapped him so hard it left my hand throbbing. I slapped him and, before he could comprehend what had just happened, I stormed off. No. More like, I bolted.

If life were a movie, the camera would have followed me from a long shot, watching me run from far away. It would have flashed a close-up of my face. My cheeks were probably puffy and tear streaked. My eyes were probably red.

However, unlike a movie, I didn't run into my savior. Nobody caught me or held me as I cried. What they don't show in movies are the moments in which the protagonist realizes that he has to go back because he is his little sisters' ride home. What they don't show in movies are the moments in which the protagonist dries his own tears with his sleeve and starts walking towards the parking lot where the person he just hit is waiting for an explanation.

"Get in the car." I hissed to Sarah. My sister, bless her heart, scurried to do as I asked, sliding quickly into the passenger seat of my cream-colored Camry. All-the-while, Austin stood there, arms-crossed, waiting for an explanation.

"I don't think you should come over Friday." I whispered. Austin growled at that.

"Like I actually planned to after all that bullshit?" he snapped, stepping in front of my car door, blocking me from entering my own car. "Tell me, are you seriously going to choose a bunch of nerds over your team?"

I hesitated.

"Yes."

Austin said nothing as he stepped aside. I don't think there was anything left for either of us to say. I decided not to tell him I would be teaching Armin how to play soccer at the local park. I didn't think he would handle it well. As I buckled up, Austin leaned down next to my window.

"Amadeus, you just signed yourself a death warrant." he growled, before backing away. "Have fun with the nerds. You're one of them now."

"Just ignore him and drive, Chael. That assholes not worth the time." Sarah whispered, hand resting on my elbow. "Let's just get the fuck out of here."

"You sure you haven't done this before?"

If I'd known Armin could actually play the game, I wouldn't have bothered with the deal. I'd never seen someone move across the field so fluidly. Gone was his awkward fumbling. He looked like a professional with the way he controlled and maneuvered the ball. It was aggravating seeing a coy little smile stretch over his lips.

"Not since middle school." he said, chuckling. His voice wasn't so high-pitched and annoying when he was breathless. "I quit when I got to Vatican. I guess old habits die hard. It's all coming back so easily."

"Yeah, well, unless you gain, like, thirty pounds of muscle, I don't see you doing too well against the others at tryouts." I teased. There was something different about this Armin. He was less serious-- more joking. In the past hour we had been practicing, he had made me laugh more times than I had with Austin that whole prior week. I could only assume that being on the field gave Armin a sense of freedom. Whatever it was, his uptight nature was slowly fading with each passing moment on the meadow.

There was something almost enchanting about the field that day. The grass was long and lush, tickling our feet with its soft green blades. The sky was a cloudless shade of blue, kissed with oncoming sheets of red and orange that bubbled along its horizon line. A gentle wind tugged at my hair and clothing, giving me the slightest of chills. Already I could hear the twilight creatures beginning to stir. Crickets gave sporadic chirps, bull frogs bellowed from a nearby pond, and the giggling voices of children faded as the evening slowly overcame the day.

"We'll see. My family has a tendency to sprout up around the time they turn seventeen. Gaining thirty pounds of muscle would be easy if I actually bothered to work out. My dad's the soccer coach, you know?" Those words made me trip over my own two feet. I hadn't expected it. One minute I was trying to steal the ball from Armin and the next I was flat on my stomach in the dirt, grass itching my chin.

"What?" I half-shrieked. "Your dad is the coach? Are you serious? Why didn't you join the team then?"

Armin shrugged, and it was the first time I'd seen him speechless. In the spreading evening with his body glowing from exertion, I might have thought he was a different person. That was, until his glass reflected the fading glare of the sun. Yeah, it was just Armin. Of course it was just tall, awkward Armin. "I thought it would be wiser to spend my time doing activities that were more academically important instead of getting all caught up in sports."

"That's it?" I arched an eyebrow. It seemed like stupid reasoning to me.

"No, but that's all you need to know." Armin extended a hand to me, pulling me off the ground with one easy tug. I ended up colliding with his chest. He didn't seem to notice. "Anyway, we should wrap this up for today." his tone was serious again as he readjusted his round spectacles.

"You really should get contacts," I suggested, trying to brush his hair out of his face. It was strange to feel how soft his hair was. I hadn't expected it to be so soft. I hated that bowl cut of his. "And a new hair cut. You're going to need to actually see the field."

Armin went rigid, eyes narrowing. I blinked and stepped back. "Of course," I stammered. "I'm not one to talk." I tugged at one of my own longish golden locks.

"So help me understand what you're suggesting." Oh shit. The editor-in-chief/ angry overlord voice was back. However, there was something darker--more sinister about it. It was deeper--rougher. "I should gain muscle mass, cut my hair, and use contacts. Correct?"

"Please don't get angry with me. I was just joking around." Even if I didn't like Armin, I still didn't want him mad at me-- Not on that day, when I'd lost my best friend in the whole world. I hadn't realized that Armin was nearly a head taller than me until he stepped closer, towering over me.

Suddenly, his expression changed to one of shock.

"Chael?" he gasped. His hand caressed my cheek, thumb rubbing away something wet. "Chael, why are you crying?"

I jerked away, stumbling a few steps back. "I'm n-not cr-crying!" I stuttered, hand flying to my tear-dampened cheeks. I was crying. Why was I crying?

"Calm down." Armin hissed, pulling me into a tight embrace. I didn't know that nerds had the capability of hugging. Hell, Armin rarely let anyone (but me) touch him as it was. Yet, there he was, holding me close and letting me sob like a chick into his shoulder. I didn't care that he smelled like sweat or that all of this was somehow his fault in the first place. All I cared about was the warm body flush against my own, the hand rubbing circles into my lower back, and the gentle 'shushes' he whispered into my ear.

It felt safe.

"He hates me." I whimpered into the other boy's shoulder. Armin tensed but continued to rub circles into my back, albeit mechanically.

"We should go. I'll drive you home since your house is in walking distance of the park." Armin murmured, words void of emotion.

"Armin…" I felt him pull away from me, tugging me along loosely by the hand.

"Yeah." he grumbled.

"Thank you."

He took me home in silence.

-

"I just think that maybe you overreacted a bit." Sarah went on, placing a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. " I mean, the two of you haven't spoken in months. It's, like, totally weird. You spend all of your free time in the news room or with that nerd, Armin."

"I happen to like 'that nerd'." My mother commented, waltzing out of her bedroom in a lacy red dress. " What do you think of this dress, dear? Your father and I are going dancing tonight."

"I think dad hates wearing suits and ties." I mumbled, rolling my eyes as my dad stepped out of the room, grumbling something about feeling like a dog on the leash.

"How could you like him, mom? He's totally full of himself and he's such a dork?" said Sarah, looking agitated. "I don't see why you had to invite him over for dinner that one time. Isn't that Chael's job? It's a good thing he turned it down."

"He's a polite boy and under the hair and glasses I'll bet he's quite a looker to." My mom winked at Sarah and my dad grumbled something about her being an oblivious twit.

My dad was, and always had been, a grumbler. In fact, being a guy, I was often the only one who heard or understood his grumblings. Despite his large beer-belly appearance, my father was as sharp as they come. He guessed I was gay when I was in fourth grade and, for the longest time, couldn't figure out how to teach me "the facts of life" when there were a few distinctly-different rules.

In the end, I was forced to learn the homosexual segment of the birds and the bees on my own; or should I say the bees and the bees?

"His body is better. I'll give him that." she mumbled.

"And he was amazing at tryouts. I'm actually kind of proud. I didn't expect him to blow everyone away like that." I pitched in. Lately, I'd found myself sticking up for the EC. However, that wasn't to say we'd gotten any closer. In fact, since I'd stopped training him a month before, we'd steadily drifted back into our old routine of him bugging me about school and me ignoring him.

"Well, I have a surprise for you." My sister later said after my parents had left. "Austin and I have been talking and I convinced him to come over. We're actually becoming sort of friends, Chael. Isn't that great? I'll bet he misses you a lot. He won't say it, though. He's too prideful to say it."

"Did someone say my name?" A voice sounded from the doorway. Like in the past, Austin waltzed right in as though he owned the place, grinning until he saw me standing there. "What the hell, Sarah. I thought you said he wasn't going to be here."

"Austin, don't be mean--"

"It's fine. I was just leaving." I whispered, avoiding his gaze. I knew Austin well enough to know that if I looked up I'd see a bright purple face and an outraged scowl. I couldn't blame Sarah. After all, she only wanted to help. Though, why Austin was spending alone time with my little sister was beyond me. It didn't even cross my mind that he might be interested in her. She was just a little girl to me-- just my little sister.

"No you're not! Guys, this has gone on long enough!" Sarah asserted, stepping between us. "You guys were best friends and your letting something stupid get between you. Austin, who cares if Chael isn't on the team this year? Chael, why are you suddenly acting as though newspaper is your life?"

"It is, Sarah! I want to be a journalist!"

Silence.

I don't think either Sarah or Austin expected those words to escape my lips. All my life I had been the creative one. However, the photography, the writing, and the movies all seemed to them like passing passions. Some were.

"I thought you wanted to be a director or a photographer." Sarah piped.

"I thought you wanted to play soccer." Austin growled.

I shook my head, blonde hair falling in my face to shadow over my large blue eyes. "No. I want to write. I really just want… to write." I sighed. "Don't get me wrong. I like all of those other things but this is more realistic…and I really love it."

At this point, they'd stopped listening. Austin shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, if that's what you like then I guess its none of my business." I glanced up at him hopefully. "Whatever, let's all just watch this god-damn movie."

That day, Austin and I sat as far away from each other as possible. I had to wonder why Sarah was practically in his lap but I didn't want to think about it. Slowly but surely, I knew our friendship would mend itself.


	4. Chapter 3

AN: Yay. Chapter 3 is now up. Please COMMENT! ^^

-

Chapter 3

They say that true love shall always prevail-- that, in the end, despite all of the obstacles it faces, love shall always come out on top. I never truly believed this. I didn't believe in soul mates either. You know, the perfect person to match the perfect you? It all seemed rather silly to me. If the concept of soul mates was true, then my soul mate could very well be a rapist, a murderer, or (worst of all) a girl! It was a disgusting thought.

Still, when I looked at Austin my heart swelled up in my throat, pounding in my ears like fast-paced rave music. I was sure there was no greater high then loving him, even if he didn't love me back. I told myself I could handle it. I told myself I could handle the girls coming and going because, in the end, he would still be with me even after he'd left them. I was his best friend, after all.

It never crossed my mind that maybe, just maybe, I couldn't handle it. It never crossed my mind that I would sink too deep, unable to paddle myself out of the dark, oceanic abyss that was his eyes.

Love does strange things to people.

"How about we go out for a drink tomorrow night, Chael? Come on. I'm sure you have time for a fucking drink on a Saturday. We haven't been out drinking in a while." I wanted to remind him that the reason we hadn't gone out drinking in a while (or rather, ever) was because I couldn't hold down my alcohol. Not to mention, I forget to keep up the straight guy act when I'm tipsy.

Of course I said yes.

-

The newspaper staff had consumed a relatively large portion of my life over the past few months. The air was cold and biting, showing the first signs of winter. I had a feeling we would have a white Christmas that year though, at the time, I couldn't be sure. There was something so tranquil about the gentle chiming of silver bells that permeated the air, resonating over the crowded streets. There was something so merry about the vibrant candy canes, forestry Christmas trees, and vast assortment of toys flooding out of every store.

"I want a bottle of beer." Austin grumbled to the bartender. Most people would immediately take Austin for someone in his twenties when he used that tone of voice. Without objection, the bartender slid a Bud Light across the countertop. I, pulling my thin jacket tighter around my freezing body, nodded for the same. The bartender arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything. I don't think he cared all that much.

I really hated alcohol.

"So, how's writing shit coming for ya?" Austin grumbled, taking three large gulps of the copper liquid. I sipped mine, trying not to screw up my face in disgust. The bar was a quaint one, known for having only a few long-time customers. Not too many of the younger folks bothered with it. It was kind of old fashioned in a way. The stools were topped in black leather, the counter was wooden and worn, and the customers consisted mostly of old veterans with long, thought-provoking stories about 'Nam.

"It's fine." I whispered, feeling the liquid burning down my throat as I took a small gulp. Austin gave me a 'look.' I wasn't sure what to think of it. It seemed kind of troubled-- kind of aggravated. "What else do you want me to say Austin?"

"Say you hate it and your going to quit and join the team again." I might not have taken him seriously, had it not been for the large hand that suddenly covered my own. I knew he didn't mean anything by it. I knew that, to him, it was all completely platonic. Still, at that moment, I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I wanted to tell him I always had and that I'd do anything for him.

I didn't.

"I can't. Armin's a good player though. Right? Even if he is a geek." I tried not to look at him as I spoke. If I looked at him, I would want to kiss him. Instead, I downed the rest of my beer in one foul swig. "Order me another, please."

Austin grinned that sunny grin I'd always adored and slapped me on the back, knocking the breath right out of my body. "That's what I'm talking about! Another round!"

It went on like that for quite some time.

"Dudeeee, we totally need to hang out moreeee." Austin slurred, chuckling slightly. He couldn't seem to keep his head up and he was practically sweating booze. However, I supposed that I, too, looked worse for wear. "We totallyyyy need to make up for all the lost time this year, dudeeee."

I rolled my eyes and smiled, vision slightly fuzzy. I could feel something stirring in the pit of my stomach but tried to push it down. "How?"

"I don't know. Let's do something together-- something fucking aaaawesome, dudeee!" he seemed thoughtful for a moment, looking slightly comical as he swayed from side to side. Or maybe I was the one swaying. My head throbbed, as though my pounding heart had ventured North into my skull. "We should make a senior prank!" he finally announced, looking triumphant.

"Austinnnn," I guffawed. "We're not sssseniors yet!"

Austin waggled his brows at me. "Exactly! Dude, no one would 'spect usssss!" Once again, his hard palm came down on my back, knocking the wind out of me. I forced a smile through the pain.

If life were a movie, I might have looked up at him in that small, seemingly-insignificant moment. The camera would do a close up of us gazing longingly at each other. Since Austin was the bigger one-- the taller one-- it would be him that leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on my lips. If life were a movie, it would feature a five minute make out scene between Austin and I.

Sadly, life's not a movie

A scantily-clad blonde passed by, waving her hips as she walked with all the sex appeal of a playboy bunny. Austin whistled low under his breath, taking his eyes off me. "Whoa. Will you check out the jugssss on that bitchhhh? Since when do chicks like that come intoooo places like thissss. Daaaamn. I'm soooo tappin' that." Austin jeered, Cheshire-cat grin tugging his lips to his ears. I rubbed my temples as the pounding intensified.

"What did you say?" I mumbled. Everything sounded like gibberish.

"See ya later, kiddo."

I don't think it fully occurred to me that Austin had left the bar until ten minutes and another beer later. By then, I was already staggering and stumbling towards the door, struggling to ignore the vicious pounding in my skull and clogging of my throat. My cell phone seemed so foreign to me as I held it in my trembling hand, seated on the curb in front of the store. I didn't know what to press and I really wanted to throw up. Austin had left me alone in a bar just so he could chase after some bimbo. Tears built like a dam behind my eyes. I had no ride home and his car was gone. It was too far to walk and I didn't know how to call a taxi. So, without much else to do, I tried for the first number on my speed-dial.

"Hello?"

"I did something reallyyyy, really dumb. Please come get meeee." I pleaded into the phone, unsure of whether the person I was speaking to knew who I was or not. I really hoped it wasn't my parents. I was supposed to be staying over at Austin's that night. "Pleaseeee." I whimpered, sob breaking my words. How pathetic I must have sounded just then, voice slurring and words mingled with loud, gasping sobs.

"Chael? Why are you calling me at this hour? Where are you?" The voice growled, sounding slightly peeved.

"I don't knowwww!" I cried. I really didn't know. I had forgotten the bar name in my haze. "Come get meeee!"

"Focus, Chael. I want you to calm down and focus. Now think, where are you?" the voice hadn't gotten any softer but there was something more urgent about it-- more commanding.

"M-Murraysss!"

"Ok, Chael. Just stay where you are. I'm coming to get you." The voice grumbled, hanging up the phone. I really hoped whoever it was would come soon. It was freezing outside and squatting in the frost wasn't exactly helping.

About fifteen minutes later two vomit breaks later, a pair of white headlights gingerly slowed in front of me. I didn't recognize the guy stepping out of the front seat. His black hair was slightly short in a jock cut, his body was hard-looking and tall, and his eyes were the most striking shade of green I'd ever seen. Even as he drew closer, sliding his arm under me to lift me off the cold, wet curb like a wayward bride, I still didn't recognize him.

"I'm sorryyy." I whispered, hiding my face in his chest as he carried me to the passenger seat. The only answer I received was a sharp glare and pat on the knee before he walked around to the driver's seat, sitting down heavily. He reminded me of someone I'd seen before-- so uptight and grumpy.

"Put on your seatbelt." he ordered. I stared at him blankly, wondering what the hell he was on about. Rolling his eyes, he leaned across me and clicked it in for me. It was strange having the familiar scent of cheap cologne and soap fill my nostrils. Who was he? As he sat up his lips, without any warning or hesitation, brushed my own. It was a soft kiss-- so soft I almost didn't feel it. "What am I going to do with you, Chael?" he mumbled, sitting up straight and starting the car. As he drove, I noticed his rigid stance never changed. He was unmoving, one hand on the steering wheel and eyes pointed straight ahead, like a marble statue.

Still, as I watched the traffic lights and Christmas bulbs reflect beams of radiance off his pale skin, I found myself being lolled to sleep by the serenity of it all. My forehead rested against the icy window as I gazed upon the shimmering pinpricks of holiday lights passing us by in a hazy blur.

"Go to sleep, Chael. I'll wake you up when we get there."

It felt as though I'd only shut my eyes for a moment before I found myself kneeling over a toilet, hair being held away from my face as I spewed chunks into the white, porcelain bowl. I felt so hot and sweaty-- as though I was coated in a layer of warm slime. The sound of rushing water pounded in my ear and suddenly something very wet and cold was patting itself against my face.

"What--"

"Hush, Chael. Can you undress and give yourself a bath?" There was a note of sarcasm in the voice coming from behind me. I nodded mutely, staring at the chunky brown contents still floating inside the round bowl. "Good." A large hand massaged circles into my back as the other flushed the toilet. "I'll leave a towel and a robe on the counter in case you need them. My room is right through this door. There will be a pair of clothes on the bed…. Though they might be a bit too large for you. You understand?"

I simply nodded again. I didn't want to think too hard about everything that was happening. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. "H-how long did I sleep for?" I mumbled, lifting myself up with as much effort as I could muster.

"I gave you a couple hours on the couch before you ran in here. Glad you're awake. Now, get yourself clean. I'll be in my study."

Before I could say another word, the owner of the voice had left the room, closing the door behind him. It was strange to fumble around in someone else's bathroom. First, I burned my eyes with the hot water. Then, I couldn't manage to find the shampoo and conditioner. And THEN, I nearly slipped and fell on my ass because the bathroom floor was wet.

The moment I entered his room, I knew this guy couldn't have been in high school. By the looks of it, this place was an apartment. The walls were painted a dull office-shade of cream, the comforter on the bed was plain and gray, a large window overlooking the city was placed perfectly in the center of the wall adjacent to the bed, and there was a quaint bookshelf in the corner. There was something so clean and strict about the room, it made me sure the man was an adult. That was, until I saw an AP US History book splayed open on the ground.

"Good. You're done. I washed your boxers so that won't be a problem and you can wear one of my shirts to bed." The man mumbled, leaning in the doorway. His emerald eyes didn't leave my own. It was as though he was waiting for me to say something.

"Thank you." I whispered, shivering slightly. "Umm… who are you?"

His eyes narrowed and his lips drew back in a feral snarl. "Is that your idea of a joke?" he grunted. I felt as though he'd just punched me with his words.

"I-I--"

"How much did you fucking drinking, Chael? Get dressed and get your ass in bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow when you can think straight. Seriously, what in the hell made you decide to do something so stupid ON YOUR OWN! What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I-- I wasn't alone. I was with…" I stopped, watching as the man's shoulders tensed before sagging. He pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly looking deflated.

"Yes, of course. Let me guess, you were with Austin? Your lucky I don't kick you off the staff for this-- this irresponsible behavior!" he half-shouted, half-scolded.

I winced, ears ringing. My head hurt so bad.

But wait…what had he said about the staff?

"Armin?" I gasped, eyes widening. "Armin you look so different when your not wearing geek clothes, or your glasses, or that goofy--" It took him only two strides to reach me. It took him only one kiss to shut me up. I was so confused my mind was spinning. This wasn't like the one in the car-- it was angry and passionate. I felt his wet tongue force itself between my lips and into my mouth, dancing with my own. I felt his hand tangle in my hair as he pulled us closer. And then, as quickly as it had began, it was suddenly over, and he was pushing us apart forcefully.

"Get some sleep, Chael."

I wanted to argue. I wanted to whine and complain but exhaustion got the best of me and, in the end, I changed the moment he left the room and curled up in the bed with a million questions swimming around in my head. Why had he kissed me? Why was I in his bed? Where were his parents? And when had he gotten hot?

-

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	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I woke up the next morning to the obnoxious sound of Brittany Spear’s ‘womanizer’ blasting through my phone. Even in the fog of sleep-depravation, I immediately knew who it was. Austin. However, the thought of answering the phone made me sick to my stomach. After all, my tummy was queasy, my head was throbbing, and I really had to use the bathroom. Most of all, at that moment I wanted to bury myself under those foreign sheets and never wake up— those sheets with their familiar masculine scent invading my nostrils and lulling me back into a comfortable slumber.

The phone was silent for a moment, resting almost eerily on the night table. Then, the shrill voice of Brittany began to trill again. I groaned and grasped for the useless little object.

“Lo’.” I grumbled, blinking myself awake. The first thing I noticed upon opening my eyes was that the room I was in was definitely not my own. There were no black and white newspaper articles plastered across the walls, heaps of clothes on piled on the floor, or photographs of friends staring back at me. I took me a moment and Austin’s apologetic ‘hello’ to remember where I was. Armin. Armin had taken me home.

Memories came flooding back to me with all the force of a river that had just breached the dam. I remembered a large hand rubbing circles into my back, the pressure of a damp washcloth against my cheeks, and the unique taste of Armin’s mouth. Oh, shit.

Austin said something and I snapped back to reality.

“Sorry, what?” I sighed, sitting up.

“Damn, man. You’re gonna make me say it again? What the fuck, dude. I said ‘I’m sorry about last night.’ You get home okay? How long you grounded for?”

He didn’t sound sorry.

“I’m fucking not…yet. You left me for some big breasted bimbo that you didn’t even know, you jackass! What the hell kind of friend are you? You know I can’t hold my liquor, Austin! As embarrassing as it is for me to admit, we both KNOW that. And yet, you still left me there. I would never do that shit to you!” Before that moment, I had never called Austin out for any of his bullshit. I had my reasons for loving him. Many, in fact. I usually couldn’t get too angry with him. But at that moment, for the first time in my life, I just didn’t care. “You’ve treated me like shit this year, Austin. First, you freak out on me just because I don’t want to be in soccer. Big whoop. My fucking choice. You even went as far as to threaten me, Austin! What the Hell? And now, this. If you seriously don’t give a fuck anymore then please just tell me. I don’t want to waste my time being friends with an asshole.”

Silence.

I heard someone shuffle in the background. A nervous feminine giggle caught my attention.

“You can’t be serious, Austin.” I gasped, clenching my fist. “Are you seriously talking to me right now WHILE you’re still at the whore’s house?”

“Shut the fuck up, Chael. You sound like a fuckin’ fag. Of course I left with a hot chick, bro! What guy wouldn’t? It’s not like I did anything wrong, Dude.”

He was right.

He was a guy. Well, we were guys…and we were friends. I knew I should have congratulated him on his latest conquest. After all, he hadn’t betrayed me or anything. I wasn’t a girl. It may sound silly to some people, but for some reason I had forgotten where I stood. In guy world, you can’t always rely on your friends to choose you over some hot babe. Men are men. Half of the time, we think with our cocks. I guess I had just thought our friendship meant more to him then that--that he cared about me more. This wasn’t a movie.

Austin wasn’t going to magically discover he’d been gay all along. He wasn’t going to have a flashback about that time in middle school…

I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

Austin was straight. I had to remind myself that he was straight. Even if I couldn’t forget-- even if I still clung to him like a lifeline-- that didn’t mean he felt the same.

“Sorry, Austin. Bad Morning. Hangover’s a bitch.” I mumbled, pulling my knees to my chest.

“Shouldn’t have gone out drinking, then.” A voice sounded from the doorway. Armin watched me with his stern ‘Editor eyes’, lips drawn into a tight line as he stepped into the room, a glass of water and a pill in his hands. “Aspirin,” he explained, when I didn’t say anything. “For the headache.”

If life were a movie, Armin would not have frowned at me like he did. No. His teeth would have gleamed as he offered me a gentle smile. The camera would zoom in on my awestruck expression as he stepped forward, eyes shimmering with love. If life were a movie, Austin’s betrayed voice would blast through the speakers shortly before fading into a dull, inaudible hum. Armin and I would share an amorous gaze for several moments before each breaking away, blushing slightly.

Of course, life’s not a movie, and the look we gave each other was more awkward then anything. What do you say to the guy who you’ve always hated when he suddenly does something incredibly nice. What do you do when, in the middle of a good deed, he’s glaring daggers at you? I had no idea, so I began to stutter.

“O-Oh. Oh, th-thanks.”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Austin growled into my ear. “Where are you at? Who the fuck picked you up?”

Before I could scrounge up a viable answer, Armin snatched the phone from my hands, replacing it with the tall, clear glass of water he had been carrying. “I did.” His words sounded rough, catching me off guard. “Chael is busy right now. I’m sure he’ll call you back later.” He hung up. “Take the medicine, Chael.” he said to me.

“Oh, right.” I swallowed the two pills, averting my eyes from his tight expression. Everything about him seemed tense. His movements were cold and calculated-- almost rigid. His shoulders were stiff. I would have done anything to see him fumble awkwardly like he used to, or move effortlessly and gracefully as he had done that day at the park. This robotic uptightness was neither.

Images of him forcing his lips against mine flickered across my mind’s eye. I had so many questions on the tip of my tongue. Deciding to try my luck, I asked the easiest one first.

“Where are your parents?”

If possible, his frown deepened. He went to run a large, now-tanned hand through his inky black hair before realizing it was short. “They don’t live here.”

“I don’t understand.” I said.

“It’s a long story, Chael. Drop it.” His words stung me. Just like last night, he managed to almost physically impale me with just his angry words. I shifted uncomfortably as he took a few steps closer, then stopped. “You can stay as long as you like. Tell me if you need me to give you a ride home or something. I’m not going to bother asking you what you were thinking again.”

“Last night--”

“Never happened.” He cut me off. “Nothing happened.” With that, he turned sharply on his heal and practically flew out of the room.

I didn’t speak to Armin about anything but newspaper for a long time after that. He played soccer still and I found myself going to every game. I told myself my sister and I were going for Austin and the team. Really, I was going in hopes of getting something out of Armin… even if it was just one of his “serpentine smiles” from the past.

He never seemed to see me there.

\---

“Be careful, Chael! You’re, like, totally going to drop it. I swear, you boys are so, like, useless when it comes to hanging banners.” shrieked one of my preppier friends, putting her small hands on her slender hips as she flipped a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. Tracy Callaway was affectionately known as ‘the bitch‘ of the school.

That wasn’t to say everyone didn’t love and respect her. We just feared her more. She was definitely in the running for being Senior class president next year and had more school spirit then the whole cheerleading squad combined, “No no no! Austin, Leo, don’t glue those there, you morons.”

“Who cares where we put them, Trace! All Mr. Smith said was to decorate the cafeteria. Chael, why are even helping the sluts with this shit?” Austin grumbled, gluing another Easter-egg cutout to the wall.

“Because I volunteered our services. Come on, Austin. It isn’t so bad.” I said, giving him my best smile. He blinked at me for a moment, before cracking a lopsided grin of his own.  
The problem was that the room was, indeed, a train wreck. So far, the auditorium was littered with spring-time streamers, Easter eggs, and confetti. Austin, being the ignorant jock he was, didn’t see the point of getting creative. His plan was to simply dumb shit on the ground and be done with it. Tracy and I, however, wanted the place to look nice for the Spring banquet. Was that really too much to ask?

“So… where’s Thing 2?” Austin questioned me as he glued a duck to the trophy cabinet. I gave up trying to explain to him that the shapes were supposed to be taped, not glued, everywhere.

“Um… some freshman field trip. Why?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering.”

The weird thing was that lately he had been “just wondering” quite a bit. At the time I hadn’t thought much of it. However, a sense of unease was crawling up my spine. Why was he so interested in my baby sister.

As a big brother, it was my job to set him straight.

“She’s only 15, you know.”

“Um… I know?” he looked confused. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“She’s skinny as fuck.”

“I know.” A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“She doesn’t have any boobs.” At that, Austin barked with laughter before patting me jovially on the back, looping an arm around my shoulder, and drawing me close. Austin was, by no means, a small boy. Whenever he embraced me, his strong arms would cage me-- engulf me. I could feel his powerful muscles, hard beneath his jersey. As he laughed, his chest seemed to vibrate and rumble, causing me to flush slightly. I took me all of my strength to just press my hands against his torso and push away slightly-- just enough to look up at him. “She’s my sister.”

His smile dissipated and his expression darkened. He scowled.

“I know that.” he scoffed.

“Hey, guys, stop flirting and get back to work.” Tracy piped up, stamping her foot. Austin’s pal, Leo, just rolled his eyes at us.

“You guys make me wonder sometimes.” Tracy mumbled.

“Hey! I’m not a faggot.” Austin growled but still didn’t let me go. He looked at me for a brief moment before leaning forward. I shuddered as his hot breath tickled my ear. “I hate how they think I’m a fag. How could I explain to them that you need me to hold you sometimes…”

I clenched the fabric of his shirt in my fists, no longer meeting his eyes, and he suddenly went silent.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Chael.” he growled, face turning purple again. I pushed him away. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I have to go to the news room.”

“Whatever.”

The moment I reached the auditorium doors, my sister stepped into the room-- all smiles. “We’re back early! The bus broke down and--”

“That’s great, sis. I was just leaving. Do me a favor and entertain Austin for a while.” I whispered, pushing past her.

When I looked back, she was grinning at Austin, an unexplainable light shining in her eyes.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first thing I noticed upon entering the newsroom was that our big-breasted news editor, Stacy McGee, was sobbing on the floor. Her tears weren’t the pretty effeminate ones you see in the movies. No. They were what my mother liked to call, “ugly tears”. Black streams of mascara ran down her cheeks, snot shined on her upper lip, and her entire face was the shade of a cherry tomato. Perfect, right?

“Don’t bother trying to console her, Chael. It’s impossible. Her computer went haywire and shut down. She lost her entire layout.” Cindy Spring, the Features editor, said from across the room.

It was then that I became aware of the other occupants of the newsroom. A few staff writers were sprawled here and there gnawing on snacks, a strange little girl sat huddled in the corner reading a book, and (of course) Armin sat hunched at Stacy’s computer, frantically trying to recapture her work.

I felt as though someone had stuffed my throat with cotton upon seeing him. It was strange, feeling so nervous around Armin. I kept hoping for him to say something--anything!

“H-hey Armin.” I tried.

He grunted in response.

‘Beautiful,’ I thought, inner voice laced with sarcasm.

“You know, we were just talking about you, Chael.” My attention drifted from Armin he moment Cindy said those words. Whenever Cindy “was just talking” about anybody, something either really bad or really good was about to happen. 

Cindy, for all intents and purposes purposes, was the school’s resident ‘gossip girl’. She knew everything about everybody and had no qualms about sharing her information. It was a miracle that even she didn’t know I was gay. It almost bothered me. I know that may sound odd. After all, when most guys come out, they get fairly upset if the person they told already knew. Why? Because nobody wants to be seen as ‘obvious.’ I, however, didn’t understand how people hadn’t realized it yet.

“Junior-Senior prom is coming up, you know. I happen to know someone with an extremely hard-core crush on you. Interested?” Cindy drawled. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in interest. Someone had a crush on me? Why, I wondered, would someone have a crush on me?

“Who is she?” I questioned, eyes flickering to Armin. It couldn’t be, could it? Cindy knew everything about everything, right?

“Her name’s Christine.” Stacy chirped, cheering up slightly at the sound of sweet gossip. Armin typing suddenly became more violent, as though he was trying to stab through the keyboard with his long fingers.

My heart sank. A girl.

“No thanks.” I said quickly, taking a seat next to Armin. He didn’t say a word. “I doubt she’s my type.”

Both of the girls look scandalized. 

“And what exactly is your type, you prick. I never took you for being a shallow asshole.” Stacy growled but her voice had a light tone to it-- a teasing note.

If life were a movie, I might have laughed at her then. If life were a movie, I might have said something along the lines of, “My type is tall, hard, and masculine.” The camera would zoom in on their puzzled expressions before flicking over to Armin who would nudge me gently-- warningly. If life were a movie, I would then have proceeded to go on a Soap-worthy spiel of how I was totally and utterly homo. In the end, everyone would sob and hug each other and Armin and I would cuddle or something equally cheesy.

In real life, I simply shrugged, too cowardly to admit the truth. Armin remained still, his expression never changing. He looked like a business man-- so strict and severe. I missed his constant whining.

“You don’t get out enough, Chael. Everyone thinks you’re some sort of monk.” Cindy giggled at her own words. “You need to get laid. At least, that’s what Aussie said.”

“Aussie?” No. It couldn’t be.

“Your big friend. Austin, right? Some of his friends call him Aussie because he can kick like a kangaroo. I overheard him saying something about it. Or rather, a friend of a friend of a… well, you know how it is. Someone heard him say to that Leo kid about you having a stick up your ass all the time and needing to get laid or something. I just figured…”

“I guess I could give it a try.” I whispered, cutting her off.

It couldn’t hurt, could it? The fact that Austin was talking shit behind my back caused something to burn in side me. Maybe it was the tears I was trying to hold back. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised.

“That’s the spirit, Chael! You guys would make such a cute couple. She’s all blonde and stuff like you and her eyes are so blue they practically match yours. You’ll make adorable little Arian Nazi babies.” Stacy crooned, standing up and brushing off her skirt. “You done yet, Armin?”

We were all surprised when Armin suddenly stood up and left the room, the sound of the door slamming shut the only indication of what he was feeling at all.

“Looks like Armin needs to get laid too.” Cindy grumbled, looking on after him.

“I’d fuck him.” Stacy chuckled, as she began to dab at the remains of her mascara with the hem of her sleeve. “What a pity. He didn’t even try to comfort me. That one usually works, you know? To think the sucker though I’d actually even started my layout. Ugh. I’ll get him to screw me eventually.”

“Good luck with that. He was totally apathetic. Maybe he’s a fag.” Cindy teased. They both started laughing. It was strange, how the rest of the room remained silent, watching our antics with mild interest. They all reminded me of Nick Caraway from The Great Gatsby, watching mutely from the on the sidelines as the main characters struggled through a world of drama. 

“Yeah… I think I’m going to start my layout.” I said, swiveling my chair around.

“Before you start, here’s the date and time you’re supposed to pick her up.” Cindy shoved a thin slip of paper at me confidently.

“You already had this all planned out, didn’t you?” I was shell-shocked.

“Damn straight.”

Fuck.

 

“I think we should spike the punch for our ‘senior’ prank.” Austin said to me at lunch the next day. It was a dull morning. The sky was dismal, gray clouds rolling across the heavens as sheets of rain swept over the school like silken sheets of silver. In the old days, they used to use milk as rain in the movies instead of water because it showed up better on the film. That’s what it looked like to me-- a shower of milk sweeping over us.

“That’s your big idea? Spiking the punch.” I couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow at him. I loved Austin but sometimes I had to wonder if all those sports were lowering his IQ. “Austin. That’s stupid.”

“That’s why it’s not my real idea.” Austin purred into my ear, eyes darting back and forth. “Sorry. Had to prepare you for the real deal, bro. I know what we should do. We should play a huge fucking prank on the King Nerd of the school. What do you think?”

“You mean Armin? Why would we play a prank on Armin? Nothing affects him anyway. Even if we pulled a stunt on him like they did in ‘Carrey’, I doubt he would even flinch.” Take a note that all of those words were spoken in less than five seconds. Word vomit had always been one of my nervous downfalls.

“I know something that fazes him.” Austin purred, chuckling deeply--maliciously. “And it will be like that damn movie. Just like that damn movie.

“What?”

“Oh come on, Chael. Don’t tell me you don’t know. The fag is disgustingly hot for you. Makes me sick to my stomach, the way he looks at you. I want to eliminate that freak before he tries anything funny.” I looked at Austin then-- really looked at him-- and tried to find some semblance of the perky young boy I used to know. 

 

Flashback to seventh grade: 

 

A whistle blew, signaling for all of us to stand in line. Back then, Austin and I were barely friends. Just ‘almost-friends’. We saw each other through a lens, never venturing deeper in our relationship then close acquaintances. Sure, I had a crush on him. When you’re a kid, you have a crush on everyone you think is ‘cute.’

“Listen up you pansies.” The PE coach growled, eying me in particular. I gulped. “I wanna see some energy on that field. Do you understand me?”

Our coach was every bit of every stereotype there ever was for a middle school coach. He was short but built like a semi, covered in long dark hair that seemed to coil around his arms in stringy strands, and perpetually sweaty. His face was always beat red and scowling and he was slowly but surely losing his hair. I was terrified of him. I think it may have had something to do with my fear of bulldogs, which was what he resembled.

“Yes sir!” Austin giggled, saluting the bulldog-looking man. He always managed to break the tense atmosphere, causing the rest of us to chuckle.

“Today we’re going to play soccer. Yes. Yes. I know we’re scheduled to play football today but someone,” he glared at Austin. “Seems to have deflated all the footballs.”

Austin simply grinned, looking as innocent as he could muster. The second the coach turned away, he leaned closer to me whispering, “That old dog’s bark is tougher than his bite. You shouldn’t let him intimidate you.”

I smiled briefly at him and shifted uncomfortably. After all, we were just acquaintances and he made me feel a little nervous with his cheery attitude. “Yeah. I’ve just… never actually played soccer before… and I always fall in everything else.”

“Really? Soccer’s my favorite sport. Don’t worry. Soccer isn’t like football and I’ll be sure to pick you for my team. I won’t let any of the guys tease you.”

“Umm… thanks, I guess.” I flinched as Austin swung an arm around my shoulder beaming.

The coach glanced back at us and narrowed his eyes in disgust. Austin grinned and stuck his tongue out at the beefy man.

 

Zoom forward to junior year. Austin was staring at me expectantly. He seemed so malevolent compared to how he was in the past. Still, I couldn’t imagine losing him.

“What kind of prank?”

Austin’s lips broke into that familiar grin and my heart melted.

“It’s easy really. You know, totally simple.” Austin explained, voice getting louder. “You’re gonna convince him into thinking you’re a fag. You know, just so he gets to trusting you.” I couldn’t see where this was going but something churned in my stomach. Unease. “Then, you’ll convince him to meet you at prom. It’ll be like that movie but this time it’ll effect him, because when he’s standing up there on stage he’ll look down and see you and I. Don’t look at me like that Chael. Nobody’s gonna think you’re really a fag except him. Everyone else’ll know. One kiss… will make him snap.”

“I can’t. What if he’s not even gay? Austin, you didn’t actually expect me to go along with that, did you?” I gasped. I think I began to tremble because Austin’s hand closed around my own.

“He’s a bloody faggot, Chael. We’ll freak him so bad; he’ll transfer out of Vatican for good. You can’t seriously want that freak around you. If you think about it, I’m just protecting you.”

I shook my head at first in shock before giving a small nod as Austin’s eyes bore into my own, pulling me deeper and deeper. I didn’t dare to remind him what happened at the end of Carrie.

 

The slip read ‘Saturday, 7:00 pm, 9687 Blizzard Lane.’ My first impression of the neighborhood was neither a good one nor a bad one. On either side of the road, petite townhouses framed by small green lawns glared at me with their polished windows. Each home resembled its neighbor, adding to a strange aura of conformity. They were all the same tiny size, all the same cream color, and all the same boxy shape. It was eerie in a way.

I had almost passed her house before realizing that it was nothing like I’d hoped it would be. It was the same as every other dwelling.

I’d half-expected her home to be a tall, out-of-place mansion made of graying bricks and surrounded by decaying brush. If life were a movie, the colossal stone structure would have emerged before me, black intimidating towers stretching towards the heavens as lightening splintered around them. The bright flashes of light would illuminate the gloomy turrets and cause them to shortly shimmer silver, almost forebodingly. With a little hesitation, I would hop out of my shitty little car and amble towards the rusting spiked gates that limited my access to the building. If life were a movie, things would have been a lot cooler.

However, life wasn’t a movie and as far as I was concerned nothing cliché or cool would happen, so I dragged myself to the door self-pityingly and knocked three times. A large, muscular man answered, keeping the door only an inch open.

“Lo’?” He growled, peeking down at me through the crack. “You here to take my baby girl on a date?”

“Um… y-yes sir.” I answered, blinking dumbly. Of course, he would be a huge ogre of a man. It was my first time on a blind date and already I thought I was about to die. I didn’t even like girls.

“Daddy!” A shrill voice cried. “Leave him alone.”

Someone shoved the man aside and the door swung open, revealing an ironically familiar face. With her wavy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and curvy voluptuous figure, I could see why Cindy had set me up with her. I could also see why Austin had ditched me for her that night we went out to drink.


End file.
